


Blue Treats

by Kanene_Rose



Series: Lesbian Alma Peregrine One-Shots [4]
Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (2016), Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs
Genre: Birthday Cake, Birthday Fluff, Cupcakes, Established Relationship, F/F, Feels, Fluff, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 13:24:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15686301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kanene_Rose/pseuds/Kanene_Rose
Summary: In the wake of the Library’s destruction and the newfound freedom of Peculiars from Caul, you nearly forget that it’s your birthday…until Alma brings you a little treat.I own none of the MPHPC elements.





	Blue Treats

It had been a difficult summer; you had been visited by a ghost in the guise of Abraham Portman’s grandson, held captive by your girlfriend’s psychotic brother Caul, and held up in London, cleaning up the mess of what was once the scourge of Peculiardom. You were exhausted, but your children were still in need of a new home and a sense of normalcy, so you were stuck upright most nights with a terrified little girl or boy in your lap, crying hysterically from a nightmare or anxious about their uncertain future.

It was a wonder you could keep your eyes open. Alma was in a similar state.

“I’ll be back soon,” she whispered, leaving you in the apartment with the children.

It was only seven o’clock, but Emma, Olive, and Bronwyn were strewn across the bed in one room, with the boys all scattered in the two smaller cots in the one adjacent. They had spent the day at the library trying to get in contact with Jake, who wasn’t responding to their letters, and had practically passed out once they returned ‘home.’

And you? You were on the couch, like every other night, in the corner of the kitchen/den; Little Claire had curled up in your lap while watching some late night kids’ cartoon on mute. She had just fallen asleep when the door to the apartment opened and Alma, in her normal dark blue jacket and skirt—a strange enough sight during the day, but nearly invisible during the night—strode straight to the couch, placed a package on the coffee table in front of you, and took the blond into her arms.

“What’s this?” you asked.

The package was covered in simple white wrapping paper, tied with red curling ribbon.

“A present,” Alma whispered, bouncing Claire gently as she made her way to the girls’ bedroom. “Wait for me.”

You did so, but had picked the package up and weighed it, turned it, shook it to guess what was inside—it took some time for you to realize  _why_ she’d gotten you anything at all.

“Oh…” you whispered as she took her seat beside you. “It’s my birthday, isn’t it?”

“I know it’s been a hard summer,” Alma sighed. She leaned in and kissed your cheek, wrapping one arm around your waist. You instinctively shifted to rest your head on her shoulder and her other arm came around, pulling you close into a sort of sideways hug. “I thought you could use something sweet.”

“Besides you?” you whispered.

The curling ribbon wouldn’t break without scissors, but you were able to slip it off one corner at a time; the paper came off easily, as did the small cardboard box underneath.

“A cupcake?” you asked, a tear in your eye. “Do we have a knife? I want to share with you…”

“It’s alright,” she murmured. “Just don’t let the children see. I don’t want them being jealous.”

“Don’t be silly.”

You took a bite, then held it out and waited for her to do the same. You two went back and forth like this until you accidentally got a spot of blue frosting on her nose and she took the treat from you, smooshing some against your chin in retaliation. She threw her head back laughed in a beautiful, care-free way you hadn’t heard in months.

“That,” you said, pointing at her with one hand and wiping the frosting off your chin with the other. “ _That_ is the best present I’ve ever gotten.”

She calmed down a bit as Millard peered into the room, thinking he’d gone unseen, and handed what was left of the cupcake back to you.

“I’m glad you like it,” she chuckled, quieter this time.

“Not this,” you said. “Though I do appreciate it, don’t get me wrong…I meant  _you_.”

Alma flushed pale; she leaned in to kiss you, smiling against your lips.

“Happy birthday, love.”


End file.
